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Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Not Nostalgic

I'm going to take advantage of the few moments of peace I'm experiencing while Damon is rocking, rocking, rocking in the big chair and get this down while it's fresh.

Next week is the last week of school. I believe today is day 8 of the countdown. Carrie's teacher retires this year. I think this is the third teacher she's knocked into retirement, hehe!

I was struck this morning by the sight of Carrie and Liam meandering off to the bus. These will be the last two weeks they'll walk to the bus stop together until her senior year, provided we're in the same place then. Next year Carrie starts middle school, and they'll be on different schedules orbits for years. I'm fairly sure her bus for junior high will come at the ridiculous time of minutes-after-7-AM... which I'm sure will be the cause of much hilarious blogging to come. I've been proclaiming that she'll have to sleep on the couch, in her school clothes, with her backpack hung on the front doorknob, and a PopTart in the mailbox on her way to the bus in order to make it on time. Maybe.

Anyway, it made me sad this morning to think about the comraderie ending. I have no idea what they talk about on the way to the bus, and I don't need to know. It's kind of fun to stay back and watch them be siblings, to have that bond that nobody else has, even as much as they complain about each other. I'm sure that's part of the whole sibling thing, too. Some days they stop to pet the dogs who are out. Some days they leave slightly ahead and behind of each other and tear along the sidewalk in fear of we-might-just-miss-it-this-time. Some days bring the sharing of an umbrella or the steadying of each other so nobody wipes out on the ice. Other days finds them searching for those rolypoly bugs, ladybugs, and praying mantis (mantises? manti?) characters peeking out of the lilies at the bus stop.  

I'm sure Carrie won't be thinking of much except how ungodly early it is on her trek next year. I wonder if Liam will notice his sister is not even with him. There will be new, smaller kids to take her seat on the bus. Our beloved Mr. Mike stopped driving the bus at the end of the fall semester, so we've been mourning his absence. It must be time.

And darn it if I'm not sitting here in tears.

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